All Good Women (37 page)

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Authors: Valerie Miner

BOOK: All Good Women
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Mrs Goldman let her into Leah's room and quietly exited.

Leah lay in the bed, her eyes closed, with none of the defiance of the previous month. Ann approached the bed cautiously, thinking she was crazy; she hardly knew this child, she had a life of her own. No, she reminded herself, this was not Mama; this was a stranger, a little girl who had a mother in Germany and another mother right here in England. Then Leah opened her eyes.

Ann expected anger, bitterness, demand.

Instead, the child smiled.

‘All right,' Ann said. ‘I'll ask if you can come home with me.'

Chapter Twenty-Six

Mid-winter 1945, San Francisco

AMERICANS TAKE MANILA

DRESDEN FIREBOMBED

SYRIA DECLARES WAR ON AXIS

TEDDY STOOD ON THE
FRONT STEP
,
shaking out her black umbrella as Moira opened the door and bustled inside to claim Tess from the babysitter. Rainy Saturday, perfect time for a funeral. Teddy glanced at the Minellis' house. Hard to believe they were both gone now. She would miss seeing Mr Minelli thumping down the street with his cane. Of course she knew he wouldn't last long after Mrs Minelli went. What was it — ten months and he was gone. Mr Minelli had become a daily presence in their lives since his wife died. The Minellis had been good neighbors during the past six years. Lord, had it been six years since they had moved in? Teddy watched the water running in a small stream along the sidewalk. The street was slick and she could hear a screech of brakes from around the corner.

‘Hey, Teddy, you gonna stand out there all day, heating up the sidewalk?' Moira called.

‘Sorry.' Teddy hurried into the house, surprised by Moira's edge. She was probably just upset from the funeral. Teddy stood with one hand on the radio. The announcer was talking about the Marines on Iwo Jima. But Moira wasn't listening. She was paying the babysitter and twisting the lace collar off her black dress.

‘How about some hot chocolate?' Teddy asked. ‘Wouldn't that warm you up?'

‘No, there's too much work to do.' Moira was escorting the girl to the door, grateful for her report about Tess's good behavior.

Teddy started to turn off the radio, then followed Moira into the kitchen. ‘What's so important? The breakfast dishes? I'll do those.'

‘Why should you? You have your own life to lead.' Moira began running the water. Relieved to be back in the house with her daughter, she often worried someone would steal Tess while she was away.

‘But you're part of my life. And those dishes are half mine.' Teddy draped her raincoat over a chair, listening to the radio with one ear. Iwo Jima, could that be where Virgil was?

‘One-third yours. You did the vacuuming, the dusting and the cooking all week. It's my turn to do the damn dishes.'

‘Moira, honey.' Teddy reached for her elbow, but Moira pulled away. ‘You have enough to do with your job and Tess.'

‘I'm sorry.' Moira nuzzled Teddy's shoulder. ‘I know you're just trying to be kind, but I have to assume my own responsibilities.'

‘Why can't you accept a little help? Listen, let's sit down and have a cup of something before falling straight back to work. It would be good to talk about Mr Minelli. We hardly got to talk last night with Tess's crying and such.'

‘Babies cry, Teddy; it's part of the deal.'

Teddy didn't even attempt to answer.

‘It's not my fault the child cries.' Moira could feel her spine tighten. ‘If it bothers you, we can find another place.'

‘Enough.' Teddy knew that when Moira got this upset she was hiding something. ‘Just go into the living room and lie down on the couch while I make cocoa.'

Moira obeyed, shivering as she approached the old elephant. She had been upset all week, but it was getting impossible to contain. When she first saw the envelope from Randy, she felt relatively collected. Even after she opened it and read the neat block printing saying he would be home in a month, she thought she could handle it. Hadn't she practiced this scenario a hundred times? Of course Vivian and Dorothy always said he would throw over that girl in the end. But what did she care? She would see him once, explain that she was otherwise engaged, and be as low key about Tess as possible. He had no legal claims on either of them.

Moira half heard the gruesome details of the Dresden bombing.

Horrible, but necessary, everyone was saying. Necessary, did they have any idea what necessary meant when they entered this war? She tried to concentrate on a report about the Russians in Breslau. She had no strength to get up and turn off the wretched radio.

If he had been so anxious to see her, why hadn't he written for months and months? What was this about a minor wound, a medical discharge? Moira held her breath and told herself to forget it. Forget it. FORGET IT. What did she care? She was taken. Lesbian, he would hate that. She wanted to tell him as much as she knew she couldn't. She felt secure in Teddy's love but their very bond seemed like a terrifying dare to the rest of the world. Oh, hell, what did he matter?

She had managed to put the letter out of her mind all day Monday, but on Monday night she dreamt Randy was making love to her. She woke up, went downstairs for hot milk and later fell into another dream, like the ones that haunted her early in the war, about him bleeding on a deserted beach. She felt better on Tuesday after she saw old Vivian. Vivian said she had a right to be furious with the bastard. Then, as she was welding, Moira's mind wandered to the injury. What was it? Had it interfered with his writing? Maybe a blow to the head? His hands? The more Vivian defended her rights, the more guilty Moira felt. On Wednesday, she resolved to stop fretting about him and on Wednesday night she could not sleep for the dreams. Moira thought about telling Teddy, but she was so caught up with Mr Minelli's funeral and Mr Whitney's roving hands. However, the fact that she had a problem was becoming perfectly clear. Yes, she should tell Teddy. Tell her what? That she had heard from Randy? How important was that after all? There was no peace — in silence or in disclosure.

‘It has been six days since Soviet forces took Budapest and a jubilant …' the radio announcer insisted.

Teddy walked in with a tray and a tentative smile. ‘We ran out of cocoa, so I made tea.'

‘Fine.' Moira patted the seat next to her. ‘Listen, I'm sorry, I-I-I …'

‘Don't worry. Are you feeling any better?'

‘Yeah, some.'

‘It's been a tough day.' Teddy sipped the tea and regarded Moira carefully. The poor kid had been strung out all week. She knew that the worst thing was to ask what was wrong. Moira would have to reveal that in her own time.

‘Nice tea.' Moira smiled formally. Oh, God, this was ridiculous. She should just start talking. Probably all these nightmares came from holding back. Her silence was a lie, itself.

Teddy nodded, waiting for Moira to continue. From upstairs, they heard a low gurgling. They both listened carefully, but Tess did not cry. The gurgling stopped and the silence was more tangible between them.

Teddy didn't know why she felt frightened by the silence. She knew she should wait for Moira to say what was on her mind, but words spilled from her own mouth. ‘I have some good news. I was going to wait for a respectable time after the funeral, still somehow it seems proper to mention it now.'

‘Yes?' Moira watched Teddy's nervous hands, chopping the air to clear way for her words. These handsome hands always distracted her.

‘Well.' Teddy pulled a manila envelope from her sweater pocket and slowly unfolded it. ‘It seems Mr Minelli left us the house.'

‘What?' Moira couldn't believe it. ‘I knew he liked us, well, I'll be darned.'

Teddy grinned.

‘Show me, will you.'

Proudly, Teddy handed her the envelope.

Moira skimmed the legal language and then stopped. ‘He left it to
you
,
Teddy! He left it to
you
.
What do you mean,
us
?
Of course he was always fond of you. And you deserve it. That's wonderful, wonderful.'

‘Ah, the name is just a technicality.' Teddy shook her head. ‘It's our house now. You can paint the outside that pale blue color you like.'

Moira shook her head and set down her cup. She didn't know whether to be amused or irritated. ‘And I suppose you see it as Wanda's house and Ann's too?'

‘Well, yes.' Teddy drew back. ‘Don't you? Maybe you feel it'd be too small with Tess here. But I've been thinking of a little room next to ours on the top floor. When Hank and Arthur get back, they could build it in a flash. I'd like to try my hand at helping. I'm sure we'll all be fine again.'

‘Teddy, you don't live in the real world. People's lives change. Wanda has family responsibilities. When she wrote she didn't say anything about coming back here after camp. And who knows what Ann's going to do about Reuben? What about Wanda and Roy? Most girls do get married, you know.'

‘Most.' Teddy tried to raise a smile from Moira. ‘But maybe our solution will be catching.'

‘Catching,' coughed Moira. ‘More likely they'll grow allergic and never talk to us again.' She was getting exasperated. How had she considered talking about Randy? This was not the time to talk about anything. She just wanted to do the dishes, maybe drop her head in the sink with them. ‘Look, hon, it's terrific about the house. But it's important to remember that it says “Teresa Fielding” on that deed. To tell you the truth, I don't feel much like talking. This week — with the funeral and all — wore me out. Washing those dishes might just work away my jitters.'

Stretching out on the couch,
Teddy closed her eyes. She felt paralyzed by conflicting feelings. Such sadness about Mr Minelli, but of course he was probably better off now than suffering through that dreadful loneliness. Teddy was very touched that he had left the house to her. Why couldn't Moira share the excitement just a little? Sometimes Moira was like that about financial details — so Scottish about who owned what, when it really didn't matter. She would be happy to add Moira's name to the title. Of course Teddy assumed Wanda would stay with her mother and Betty until the family got settled, but why wouldn't she return to the house eventually? It would take time for Roy to return, to make the wedding plans. Maybe Moira just didn't want to get her hopes up? Maybe Moira missed the old days so much that she couldn't face the loss again. She understood Moira better as she learned about that strained, solitary childhood. Moira never counted on a thing until three days after it happened.

Moira was right — people did change. Teddy could see Ann getting more and more sober in her letters. But there was a loosening too. She wasn't so fretful now that she thought she was doing important work. Maybe Ann wasn't meant to be a scholar after all. Maybe she was meant to help people this way. No reason she couldn't do that from Stockton Street. There were plenty of social causes in San Francisco, right in the neighborhood. Reuben, there was something in Ann's tone that implied she had only so much room in her life. That reminded Teddy, she should call Mr Rose. They had neglected him this last week.

Maybe Moira was right; maybe Wanda would be too angry to live with the
Hakujin
again. Teddy breathed deeply, thinking about the empty house next door. The Nakatanis couldn't return to their old place. But the Minellis' house was available. Well, she wouldn't suggest it to Moira just yet. Teddy listened to the water running like fury in the kitchen.

She picked up the deed and read, ‘Teresa Fielding' with fresh pleasure. No one in the family had ever owned a house. Too bad Pop hadn't lived to see this. Teddy shook her head and touched a familiar place of remorse. He had failed at so many things — the farm, the move, the dock job. Drinking was the only world where he could let go of his responsibilities and preserve his hopes. Surely he knew toward the end he was killing himself. After that much liver trouble you don't keep up with the drink. Teddy sniffed, oh, they were all mixed up in her mind — Pop, Mr Nakatani, Howard — like Wanda wrote, they each died from the war in some way. She recalled that last conversation with Mr Minelli, the day before they took him to the hospital. ‘Your father must have been proud of you,' he offered. ‘In a way, yes,' Teddy answered to satisfy the old man. But she reckoned Pop was too busy being ashamed of himself to be proud of his children.

One good thing — the deed meant she could send her rent money to Mom. That would let Mom drop one of the jobs — she hated taking in laundry — and just keep on waitressing. She would call Mom tonight. No, she would go over there tomorrow. She wouldn't believe it unless she saw it with her own eyes. Teddy Fielding was twenty-eight years old and she owned a house.

She sipped the dregs of tea, playing with the bitter leaves on her tongue, and thought back to that last conversation with Mom. Just the two of them.

After dinner,
they lazed around
the kitchen, drinking the rich coffee Teddy had brought as a present. Mom looked tired, but satisfied as she described Jolene's new job at the shipyard, Jack's good grades in school, Susie's geography project and the letters from Virgil. Teddy noticed how her mother looked younger than she had since they left Oklahoma. Pop's dying had been terrible, but the death itself took a weight off his wife. There was a color to her cheeks and a lightness in her speech. Late in the evening, when they had run through everybody else's life, Mom asked quietly, ‘So you happy alone in that big house with the other girl and her baby?'

‘Yeah, Moira and I get along real well.'

She studied her daughter. ‘You don't have no men friends? A girl your age'll be thinking about marrying.'

‘Ah, Mom, I'm too busy. What with my job and the bond campaign and Tess, I don't think I could add a husband.' She concentrated an easiness into her voice, hoping Mom would drop the subject.

‘I don't want to rush you honey, and God knows you didn't have the happiest example of man and wife here, but I want to make sure you're thinking of your future.'

‘I'm fine, Mom, now when have you ever had to worry about me?'

‘That's just it, Teddy, maybe I should have paid more attention. All these years you've been helping with the kids. And when did you ever get taken care of?'

‘When I got the measles. When I had my tonsils out. When you told Pop I had a right to typing school.'

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